


Endure

by Loopstagirl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Torture, Violence, attempted non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1906386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loopstagirl/pseuds/Loopstagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone had a breaking point. That didn't mean they had any intention of finding it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endure

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners.
> 
> Written for Camelot Land's prompt of Breaking Point.
> 
> There isn't anything too graphic as such in this but it contains a lot of violence and torture and attempted rape. Don't read if you don't like that sort of thing.

Arthur awoke coughing, aware of the pain radiating through his body. As he struggled to control his breathing, he attempted to piece together what had happened.

The last thing he could remember, he was eating dinner. He was on an envoy to one of the lesser kingdoms. They had always been loyal to Camelot and to his father and Uther had believed it was a sign of good faith to send Arthur to stay with them for a few days. Plus it was a way of making sure the kingdom knew it hadn’t been forgotten about; partly as gratitude for their loyalty and partly to make sure they knew not to try anything.

It had been a long ride and Arthur had been exhausted. The knights seemed to have instructions to reach the kingdom before nightfall. Normally, Arthur would have taken a more leisurely pace, stopped to camp in the forest and continued the next day so he arrived refreshed and ready to play the perfect ambassador. But his father had insisted on the knights who would accompany him, and they didn’t seem to be listening to Arthur’s orders.

Instead of having his friends by his side and Merlin quipping in his ear, Arthur was stuck with a bunch of old men who still looked on him as if he was a child. His father had insisted – quite strongly considering he barely knew who Merlin was – that Arthur’s servant stayed to help Gaius. No one could disobey a direct order from the king, not even Merlin. Although Arthur wouldn’t have put it past him to try, it meant he was stuck with a bootlicker who hadn’t responded to any of his teasing other than a dutiful answer.

Arthur had never been so bored and with having nothing to distract his mind from the ride, he had felt every hour they had traversed across the land, knowing there would be no stopping until they reached their destination.

It had been a welcome sight indeed when the castle had risen from behind a hill. Arthur had forced himself to ignore his weariness and knew that he would be able to have a nice hot bath and some sleep when he got there.

Apparently, he was wrong about that as well.

He had only been given enough time to wash his face and change his clothes when he was told that the lord of the manner wished to dine with him. Arthur knew it wasn’t a request though and had dutiful squared his shoulders and spent hours listening to an old man drone on and on about his _perfect_ sons.

But that didn’t explain where he was now.

Now that alertness had returned a little, Arthur could see that he was in some sort of dungeon. His shirt and boots had been stripped from him and his hands were chained high above his head. The chain was taut and Arthur realised the pain was coming from his wrists as they supported his weight, his feet swinging an inch or so above the ground. It didn’t matter how much he stretched his toes, he couldn’t get a purchase in order to alleviate the strain.

“Face me!” Arthur yelled into the darkness, wanting to know if anyone else was out there. Where were his knights? Had they noticed their prince had returned to his rooms after dining with their host? A horrible thought hit Arthur; what if they didn’t notice until morning?

“I thought the drug was never going to wear off.” Arthur knew that voice; he had just spent hours listening to it drone on and on.

“This is treason, Lord Edgar. Release me at once and no further action will be taken against you.

“Mighty words for one so young,” a candle flared into life and Arthur had to force himself not to flinch as the bright light penetrated the darkness. The cell was more spacious than he thought it was. Not that made any difference to Arthur, chained the way he was. “I wonder if you will sound as strong when I ask you to give me what I want.”

“And what is that?” Arthur was secretly impressed at how strong his voice was coming out. His head was throbbing and his stomach rolling. He hoped he wasn’t about to be sick. He knew it was most likely from whatever drug this man had slipped him. Now that he was thinking about it, he did dimly recall that last pitcher of wine having a strange after-taste and his host not touching it. Arthur had been too bored to truly pay attention.

“You’re going to tell me everything you know about Camelot.”

Arthur couldn’t help it. He laughed. Here was an old man, old enough to be his father’s father, insisting that Arthur spilt the secrets of his kingdom just because he asked for it. Chaining him in a dungeon was not going to get him to reveal anything. He couldn’t even think of anything to say in response, the idea was so ludicrous.

He was still chuckling when the door opened and three men walked in. Arthur recognised them; they had been the ones standing guard over their master at dinner. Arthur at the time had spared them nothing more than a glance. He knew it was for show to make the kingdom seem stronger. Now he wondered if they had just been waiting to drag him off to the dungeons the instant that he lost consciousness. Suddenly, the situation didn’t seem as funny anymore and Arthur let cold anger take the place of his amusement.

“What do you think you are doing?” He asked, his voice dangerously soft and low. He knew that would be a sign to Edgar that he was crossing a line, one there was no way back from. The old man sighed, almost apologetically.

“I have to obey orders just the way you do, Sire,” he spoke softly. If Arthur wasn’t mistaken, even regretfully. But he stepped closer, his men flanking him. “I don’t want to ask again, Arthur. Tell me about Camelot’s defences.”

“Go to hell,” Arthur responded. He knew what was coming even before the first man had drawn back his fist.

Edgar kept repeating the question. To start with, Arthur had a snarky answer for each time. But in response, Edgar’s men struck him. It didn’t take long until Arthur was sure he had a broken rib and sarcasm was no longer the way to go; just focusing on breathing was his priority now.

How long it lasted, he had no idea. But the beating was brutal and ruthless. The men deliberately targeted sensitive parts of the body and Arthur had tears dripping down his face from where he was unable to control his body’s reactions. Blood trickled from his nose and lip, he couldn’t see out of one eye and he was certain there was a bone in his foot that had cracked as well as his rib.

In a way, Arthur embraced the pain. He knew it couldn’t continue if he blacked out and it would provide him with some sort of respite. He saw the fist coming for him and braced himself, knowing this was going to end it all for him. It caught him in the face again and Arthur felt his head snap back. Pain exploded at the back of his head as he hit the stone wall and he sank into the welcoming darkness, letting everything drift away.

Still, there was one word linger through his mind even as the blackness consumed it.

_Why?_

Arthur wasn’t allowed the respite he was hoping for. Ice cold water splashing over him jerked him back to consciousness and Arthur wasn’t quick enough to stop the whimper from escaping him. His weight was on his broken rib, that was the only thing Arthur could focus on for a long moment as he struggled to control his breathing.

Eventually, the prince managed to take stock of his surroundings.

He was in the same cell as before, only this time he wasn’t tied to the ceiling. He was draped over a wooden bench, rough splinters threatening to drive into his skin. His hands were stretched out in front of him and tied to a ring in the wall, and glancing behind revealed his ankles were bound in a similar way. He didn’t have enough either way to move from the bench. He was also gagged.

“He’s awake, Sire.”

“Very well, continue.”

Arthur tried to let out some sort of muffled protest. But words were not formed behind the gag and it instead turned into a gasp of surprise as he felt a line of pain radiate from his back. Twisting his head awkwardly, Arthur felt his eyes widen in surprise. One of the guards was standing over him, a cruel looking whip in his hand. He seemed to smirk when he saw Arthur watching, lifted it above his shoulder and slashed it down on the prince’s back.

Arthur turned back. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing his fear. Instead, he let his eyes focus on the stone work in front of him. In excruciating detail, he began tracing the patterns in the stone, trying to focus his entire being on the cracks in the brick. He could feel his back was slowly being shredded and it became harder and harder to focus at the feeling of blood and where the whip was cutting into some of the wounds it had already caused.

“Enough.” Edgar was in front of him, but Arthur hadn’t heard him move. Before he could even glance at the man, the gag had been tugged free from his mouth. Arthur flexed his jaw.

“I can make this stop, Arthur. Just tell me about Camelot’s defences and this will all be over. I’ll have someone treat your wounds, a soft bed, something to eat. Just tell me.”

Arthur stared at him with a barely focused gaze. In his pain induced state, he had almost forgotten this was the same man who had ordered the whipping. The idea of rest made him feel almost grateful towards him and Arthur debated about whether he could just tell him a few things, just to make it stop.

Then he clenched his jaw and shook his head. He was the Crown Prince, he did not break that easily. The man sighed, combing his fingers through Arthur’s hair almost gently.

“You always were too stubborn for you own good. Oh well. Remember, you brought this upon yourself.”

Arthur had an answer on the tip of his tongue. But he swallowed it when he felt his trousers being ripped. With a few sharp tugs – and a whimper from Arthur – he was left completely naked. He could hear the rustle of clothing and knew he didn’t need to look what happened next.

Unless he told Edgar what the man wanted, his men were going to rape him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see hands being placed on either side of the bench and a warmth of another body hovering over him, luckily not quite touching the wounds on his back. Already, Arthur could feel a blunt pressure being applied to his entrance. Balling his hands into fists, he could feel tremors running the entire length of his body. A fierce frown dominated his face and his jaw clenched. He was not going to give them what they wanted, no matter what.

“Last chance, Arthur.”

“You will be hunted down and killed for this.”

“Very well.”

The pressure increased and Arthur cried out before he could stop himself. He braced himself for the agonising pain, but it never came. Instead, the dungeon door slammed open and light flooded in.

“Enough!” A voice thundered. A voice, Arthur realised, he knew. He flushed at realising his father was seeing him in such a degrading position, but also knew it meant a rescue was here.

“My Lord…”

“I specifically said there was to be no lasting damage.”

Arthur felt the bottom of his world disappear even as the weight and pressure also vanished. Edgar looked guilty, but not to the degree that he had just been caught torturing the Crown Prince. It was more as if…. As if he had overstepped a line somewhere, nothing more.

“Arthur? Oh my god, Arthur!”

He knew that voice as well. This time, it was only relief that flooded him as he heard Merlin hurry into the room. Merlin shoved past Edgar – clearly not caring that this was some lord – and crouched in front of Arthur, gently cupping his face. Arthur knew from this angle, his father couldn’t see what they were doing. Merlin gently kissed his forehead.

“I didn’t know, I swear, I didn’t… I overheard him talking about setting out straight after you and I knew something was wrong, so I followed. I thought you were in trouble, I…”

“Merlin,” Arthur croaked, a smile cracking his lip again and causing a fresh burst of blood to trickle from the cut. “Untie me.”

“Oh!” Merlin quickly set about releasing the ropes on Arthur’s wrists, gently caressing the wounds and murmuring apologies as he did so. He disappeared for a moment and Arthur wanted to call out to him, to make sure Merlin was still there. Then he felt the ropes around his feet disappear. He spun and sat up so quickly that a wave of dizziness overcame him and he was sitting on the floor before he knew how he got there. Looking up, he saw his father had a hand fisted in Merlin’s collar.

“I should have you whipped for the amount of orders you’ve just disobeyed, boy.”

“Let him go.” Arthur stood, his head held high with pride despite his body screaming at him and his nakedness revealing everything that had happened and had been about to happen. Uther’s lip curled, but he threw Merlin away from him. The servant landed at Arthur’s feet and the prince awkwardly helped him up.

“You’ve done well, Arthur. The test is over, I will send Gaius…”

“You told them to do this?”

“Under a controlled environment, of course. It’s better to find out what you can withstand when there isn’t a real enemy ready to use any information you might let slip.”

“For your information, _Father_ , nothing crossed my lips. Maybe you should have a little more faith in me before you order your loyal servants to beat and rape me.” There was nothing but cold contempt in Arthur’s voice. He pulled on his trousers, grabbed Merlin’s arm and marched from the dungeons.

As soon as he was out of sight, however, Arthur half-collapsed against the wall, trembling. Tears of agony were running down his face now he didn’t have to hide it.

“He ordered it,” he choked, feeling Merlin stroke his hair reassuringly. “The bastard thought I would break. He never thought how far they would go if I didn’t crack. He didn’t trust me…”

“Hush, Arthur,” Merlin’s voice had a hint of a command in it and in his weakened state, Arthur found himself listening. “It’s over. He’s never going to touch you again.”

Somehow, Arthur found himself believing Merlin. There was a note of raw possessiveness in the man’s voice even though his touch was gentle as he escorted Arthur to his chambers and gently began treating the wounds. Soft and pliant under Merlin’s hands, Arthur soon drifted into sleep, knowing it was over.

Merlin was right though; Uther would never touch him again. From now on, Arthur would be a perfect prince and soldier.

But never again would he be the man’s son.


End file.
